


between heaven and disaster

by treklinite



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I Tried, M/M, One Shot, have a merry christmas, i don't know how to tag, so yes it's sad, this is unbeta'd so i'm sorry for any mistakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 07:10:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5530538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treklinite/pseuds/treklinite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Those words give him an undeniable spark, some sort of energy, a real reason to not give up. Newt cares about him and Thomas just can’t spoil that. He already feels Teresa slowly drifting away from him – he’s been contemplating on why she seems to trust WCKD more and more with no end result whatsoever – and he can’t lose Newt too. He can’t fail Newt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	between heaven and disaster

**Author's Note:**

> for lydia aka @dylanofcourse on twitter !  
>   
> hi all,  
> this is a messy recount of what i think thomas felt towards newt with the starting point of that beautiful (but unfortunately deleted) campfire scene in scorch trials. i literally wrote this in the span of around thirty minutes? so yeah, sorry for any grammar mistakes or misspelled words because it's christmas and this is just what happens when you let me linger around with my laptop alone.  
>   
> anyways, i hope you enjoy the mess i've made ! feedback is always appreciated :)

_You can’t give up. I won’t let you._

 

Those words etch on Thomas’ brain like leeches, nagging his mind on and on with no intention of ever going away. It’s Newt who had said those words and Thomas is, to put it easily, quite baffled. He has always thought of Newt as the strong, calm and collected guy back in the Glade but he can’t help but notice the sudden tiny outbursts that Newt’s been making during their journey in the Scorch. He notices how Newt’s voice would sound an octave higher than it’s supposed to – from panic, Thomas guesses, and that’s a pretty reasonable cause. They’re literally lost in the middle of a ginormous desert, not knowing exactly where to go, except that there are people in the mountains who might be able to help them.

 

Newt’s words wouldn’t leave his mind even _days_ after they were spoken and Thomas couldn’t blame the guy, really, because he really can’t give up. He’s supposedly the leader now and he has to make his group of friends survive through the Scorch until they get some help. But it's the next part of Newt’s words that genuinely surprises him. _I won’t let you._

 

He feels like he ought to thank Newt for caring about him so much, but that’s just not his thing. To be quite honest, those words give him an undeniable spark, some sort of energy, a _real_ reason to not give up. Newt cares about him and Thomas just can’t spoil that. He already feels Teresa slowly drifting away from him – he’s been contemplating on why she seems to trust WCKD more and more with no end result whatsoever – and he can’t lose Newt too. He can’t fail Newt.

 

So everyday he goes on fighting through this mess of a desert, leading his friends to the presumably right place to be, as he feels the hollowness in his heart slowly filled by Newt’s collection of warm, encouraging words.

 

 

***

 

 

The world of the Scorch is soon forgotten as Thomas stares at the white wall before him. Rescuing Minho from WCKD proves to be an unsuccessful mission, for they end up being prisoned in separate places – or at least Thomas thinks so. He hasn’t been let out for possibly a couple of weeks now and it’s driving him crazy.

 

Sometimes he would plan some cunning thing to do when the door finally opens. Sometimes he’d spend the day sleeping, conjuring dreams in his head that turn into nightmares and then memories. Sometimes he’d think back to the Glade or even the Scorch, feeling empty without his friends around him.

 

He wonders where Newt, Minho, Teresa and the others are – his imaginations get uglier and crueler each passing day, prompting scenes of violence being committed against his friends to appear before his eyes. By the third week, he has already imagined them dying in countless ways, but the thought of committing the murder himself never ever pops into his head.

 

 

***

 

 

Thomas’ heart lights up when he’s finally let out. When Ratman says that Newt isn’t immune, however, he feels those lights being switched off all at once like a candle blown out in the cold darkness. He stumbles physically and he senses a wave of anxiety coming through him, suffocating him like he’s going to die right at that moment. Heh.

 

But Newt is the one who’s going to die. Newt is the one who, one day, will suffer an inevitable death if they don’t find a cure. Thomas by now truly doubts that one would ever exist in the future – and it’s not like they have all the time in the world. Newt is going to go down the spiral of insanity and Thomas doesn’t want to be there to watch, he really doesn’t, but he can’t bear the thought of Newt going through it alone.

 

But then Newt tries to comfort him with words that feel like stone, words that feel like daggers have been cut through Thomas but feel so empty at the same time, and Thomas could only smile halfheartedly.

 

 

***

 

 

_You swear to me that you won’t read what’s inside that bloody envelope until the time is right._

 

There never is a night when Thomas doesn’t think about the note. Somehow it always pops up when he’s wide awake in the a.m. and he tries his hardest not to let his fingers take it out from his left pocket. As he speculates on what might be written on the piece of paper, he would stare at Newt, who’s sleeping across the considerably small bedroom in the Berg – if you can call it a bedroom, that is. He watches as the boy sleeps peacefully, his expression seemingly wide open, as if he has nothing to hide, which is literal bullshit to Thomas. But still, he enjoys how serene Newt seems when he’s in his unconscious self, his even breath sending Thomas a calming sensation.

 

Sometimes that calming sensation would send Thomas to sleep and he’d dream about some vague thing with himself and Newt in it, and he couldn’t help but think for one moment that they are real memories from the past, but then those memories fly away into the void as he wakes up not recalling any of them.

 

 

***

 

 

They have to leave Newt in the Berg because he’s not immune and Thomas feels a sense of uneasiness cradling him. He just doesn’t feel that it’s the right decision and that there must be a way to get Newt in, but there apparently isn’t a way or so says Jorge, so Thomas has to stick to the plan and focus and try not to worry about the guy too much.

 

He fails at that last part, though. Of course he would.

 

When they get back to the Berg, when they finally open the thing up and discover that Newt isn’t there, when they at last acknowledge how he’s been taken to live with the other Cranks, Thomas’ fortress of steadiness crumbles but he can’t let the others see it. It’s just not right to show emotions in the middle of something so urgent and important, right at the center of attempts of survival. So he keeps those feelings away, never being able to bear the thought of Newt in the midst of violent creatures that he himself would soon become.

 

 

***

 

 

_And you, Tommy, you’ve got a lot of nerve coming here and asking me to leave with you. A lot of bloody nerve. The sight of you makes me sick._

 

Those words serve no resemblance whatsoever to the Newt he has known back in the Glade. None. Even in the Scorch, Newt still gave Thomas words to hang on to, a reason to fight each day, but this? Thomas could only tremble the moment he’d heard them, not knowing what to say in response, feeling so empty and broken and wanting to wrap Newt in his arms because he wanted Newt to know that he cared.

 

Moments later, he’s up in the Berg and the note pops up in his head out of nowhere. He thinks that the note might be what Newt had meant – maybe the right time was before Newt was escorted to the Crank Palace. Thomas feels uncertain at the assumption, but as he opens the note and reads the two sentences written before him, all the uncertainty fades and he lets a tear or two or maybe tens and hundreds roll down his cheeks.

 

If he had felt broken at the Crank Palace, this beats the sorrow he’d felt there. Now, he feels morose and weak and terrorized because why, why would Newt write such a thing? Why would Newt have for Thomas such a horrifying request? Why would Newt ask Thomas, of all people? Thomas wants Newt to give him answers, but he couldn’t bear the thought of _killing_ Newt on their next meeting. It’s just a thing he’s unable to do.

 

He can’t kill his Newt. He loves him too much to do so.

 

 

***

 

 

_I hate you, Tommy! I hate you I hate you I hate you! After all I did for you, after all the freaking klunk I went through in the bloody Maze, you can’t do the one and only thing I’ve ever asked you to do! I can’t even look at your ugly shuck face!_

 

Those words sting and Thomas slowly feels his hurt turning into fear. He can only reassure himself that Newt’s lying, that he’s lying, that he doesn’t hate Thomas.

 

How can Newt possibly ever hate his Tommy?

 

_You wanna know why I have this limp, Tommy? Did I ever tell you? No, I don’t think I did. I tried to kill myself in the Maze. … I hated every second of every day. And it was all … your … fault!_

 

That bit of history wounds Thomas’ heart as his fingers trail down to his pocket, the one wrapping the gun. He feels clueless and scared and terrified and the usual sense of not wanting to fail Newt, not ever.

 

But of course, the inevitable finally comes.

 

_KILL ME! Please, Tommy. Please._

 

What can he do? He closes his eyes and braves himself to do the right thing, to do the one thing Newt has ever asked him to, the only thing Thomas has to do to never fail Newt ever again. The seconds feel like hours or even days, as brief as it is, but it feels like time drags on as he holds the gun with his pulse racing and sweat pouring all over his skin. He feels Newt’s warmth around him, not wanting that warmth to cease, not wanting the coldness of a dead body replacing it.

 

But he pulls the trigger anyway.

 

 

***

 

 

Sometimes Thomas can hear Newt's voice ― how, in his last moments, he had pleaded for Thomas to kill him. How he had said that he hated him, and that it was all his fault. That bit was true, Thomas thinks. None of this chaos would've happened if he hadn't helped WICKED with the Trials. But then again, they were hopeful souls, thinking that they could save the world, find a cure and heal everyone infected from the Flare.

 

Sometimes Thomas would forget how Newt's voice sounded like and he'd cry. The only proof that Newt had ever existed was the note he'd written up for Thomas and that’s just not enough. He'd cry because he wants to hear Newt saying reassuring things to him like how he had back in the Glade, always trusting him and believing in him and being the first one to support him in whatever he wanted to do. He wants to rewind the things Newt had said that night when they were sitting beside each other by the campfire, how Newt had told Thomas that he shouldn't give up and that Newt would never let him.

 

But now Newt is merely a shadow of the past and Thomas can only feel guilt weighing down on his shoulders.

 

Minho would stare at him with pitiful eyes during long nights when Thomas can’t remember how Newt smelled like and how gentle his touch was. But he often wonders which is worse ― remembering or forgetting? Because there are times when he'd wake up crying and sweating with his heart racing because of some nightmare he has of Newt. Thomas knows he had no right to be such a hurtful brat over the whole ordeal because, fuck it, Minho was there first. Minho had known Newt years longer than Thomas had. Minho had been witness of Newt's suicide attempt and couldn't help but tried to protect him ever since.

 

Everyday Thomas wants to say sorry, say his apologies for all the things that had happened and all the lives that had been lost, but who would he apologize to? Newt’s gone and Minho is just trying to go on with life and Brenda wouldn't understand. He selfishly wishes he could have Teresa to talk to, because even though she had betrayed him, she was the only one who would understand the guilt. But now she is long gone as well, so he keeps all his sorries to himself as he shamefully feels warmth in his body when Newt appears in his sweeter, bearable dreams.

 

 


End file.
